CHAPTER SEVEN
With the soft orange glow of sunset casting an eerie fire on the stone buildings and deep, long shadows in the crowded streets of Theed, Anakin charged through the throngs of innocent bystanders as safely as he could. The black-cloaked woman fled from him with Force-powered strides, cruelly knocking aside those unfortunate enough to be in her path. He could sense Obi-Wan nearby, running at top speed to try to flank the object of their chase.
And yet it seemed as though the Sith Master was not seriously attempting to elude them. Anakin had no doubt she could run faster, or duck inside a store and disappear among the patrons, or simply turn a corner and use the dark side to project an illusion they would not detect until she was long gone.
Instead she ran on a straight path toward the spaceport.
He had managed to close the distance between them to a matter of a few meters by the time they reached the edges of the starship hangar facilities. There were fewer people here, but the streets were narrower and the shadows from the buildings far more pervasive. Although he could not sense her presence directly, he followed her with his eyes and tracked her progress in other ways: the noise of her footfalls, the scattering of birds, the startled reactions of those who caught a glimpse of her improbably fast gait.
She pivoted on her heel and burst through an open doorway. Anakin blasted the Force through his feet to pursue her, fully expecting the door to slam closed behind her before he arrived.
It didn't.
Anakin raced into an empty hangar bay. The massive door was raised, revealing a stunning view of the sprawling, dusk-lit plaza of the spaceport. Only the dim auxiliary interior lights were activated, giving the vacant bay a cold, gray hue.
A few meters ahead of him stood the Sith Master with her inactive lightsaber handle clutched in her right hand. Her raised hood still concealed her face, but long strands of straight black hair flowed out from beneath the cowl.
Anakin stopped and snapped the handle of his regular blade into the palm of his hand. His new invisible laser sword was a tempting alternative, but the stakes were far too high to use anything but the trusty old weapon he had used for almost two decades now. With his other hand he brushed off his hood as his brown cloak billowed around him and he assumed a stance of readiness.
Behind him Anakin sensed Obi-Wan rushing through the door, only to be met by a series of blaster bolts from the right. With a quick glance over his shoulder, Anakin saw a young man about Luke's age charge from the shadows. Wearing the same black Sith attire as the Master, the man's left hand held an ignited red lightsaber. From his right hand a blaster pistol was sending a torrent of bolts toward Obi-Wan, who tumbled smoothly along the floor to evade some of the blasts, then sprang to his feet again with his turquoise blade ignited to deflect away the rest. As a lightsaber duel between them began, Anakin turned back to face the woman.
She chuckled as she reached up her left hand and drew down her hood as well. "And so," she said in a deep contralto voice filled with malice, "we meet again, Skywalker."
"No," he gasped.
"Oh, yes," she laughed darkly.
"But… you… You were killed at Geonosis," he stammered.
"Reports of my demise were greatly exaggerated."
"You died in the battle," he insisted. "Several Jedi watched you die."
"It would seem they were mistaken," she smirked. "Really, Skywalker, your surprise disappoints me. I'm hardly the first to fake my own death to escape the spiritual abyss that is the Jedi Order."
"I don't recall that any of the others became Master of the Sith," Anakin growled as he took a step forward.
"Indeed," she winked as she took a step back. "But none of them had Sidious as a benefactor as I did."
"What?"
She laughed derisively. "Oh, Skywalker. I would have expected so much more wisdom from you. We have worked in secret for a millennium to destroy the Jedi and all you stand for. Do you really think that Sidious would have placed all his plans on the shoulders of a man so old he had Jinn as a Padawan and a boy so headstrong and reckless that even Kenobi could not pacify him?"
As they circled each other with slow steps, Anakin perceived that Obi-Wan easily was defending himself against the male Sith's attacks. He suspected the other duel was nothing more than a ploy to keep Obi-Wan preoccupied and he and the Master alone. "Why?" he asked forlornly. "Why, Cimma, why?"
"That name no longer has any meaning for me," she snarled.
Anakin remembered Cimma Tuzzin clearly. About four years his junior, she had been a promising young talent when she had been killed in battle at Geonosis. Or so the Order had believed for over two decades. "You were my friend," he said, heart-stricken. "I trusted you. Gina and Frekk trusted you. Ellina most of all. How could you betray us?"
"I would have thought that by now you would have started to understand," she scoffed. "You were never the only Jedi in Sidious' sights, Skywalker. His plans to turn to a powerful Jedi to the dark side were in motion long before the precious Chosen One ever arrived in the Temple."
"You're lying," he spat.
"You must decide for yourself whether I speak the truth because I know you would not believe me, or whether I speak merely lies," she chuckled. "Hear this, Skywalker. Before you were discovered, Sidious already had foreseen that Maul would never survive until the final annihilation of the Jedi could begin. He already had begun to identify suitable candidates. Maul was slain earlier than anticipated, but Jinn's death opened the way for Dooku to join us. Turning a Jedi Master was most beneficial, for it allowed Sidious to focus on the young generation. You in particular, of course."
"He manipulated me," Anakin agreed. "But if you see this, why allow him to manipulate you as well?"
"You see it as manipulation only because you did not perceive it happening," she chided. "I wanted that power. Long before I understood the true powers of the Sith, I knew the might of the dark side was my future. I have embraced it from the first moments I felt it flowing in my veins and burning in my heart. Sidious did not have to manipulate me. I joined him willingly the day he first approached me." She ignited her shimmering scarlet laser sword. "So greatly did I feel the vibrant power of the Force in my spirit that I was not deterred when Sidious made clear you were the principal target. I was his secret traitor inside the Jedi Temple. I helped him manipulate you for years, Skywalker. Someday you will see this to be true."
"You're lying," he insisted again. His turquoise blade snap-hissed to life in his right hand.
"Do not equate blindness on your part with deceit on mine," she said patronizingly. "You are a fool and always have been. Ellina trusted me, on that we both agree. But it is I, not you, who knows what truly was in her heart. It was I who convinced her that she cared for you. It was I who first introduced her to the dark powers she used to conceal her affair with you. It was I who showed her that the future lies in supremacy and domination, not in the quagmire of powerlessness imposed by the Jedi Code. She wanted to be part of my plan to escape the Order all along, can't you see? When your relationship was exposed, you both would have been expelled. That was what she always wanted, from the moment she first kissed you. We were going to leave together – the three of us. And I would have been there as your savior, to lead you both to Sidious. In the torment of that moment, Skywalker, you would have succumbed. Both of you. Have no doubt."
"You may slander Ellina's memory all you like," Anakin said firmly, "but you will never persuade me that she willingly sought the dark side. I have made peace with her actions, and nothing you say will ever change that."
The red and blue blades buzzed in the air, poised to strike.
"You cannot alter the truth simply by wishing it away, Skywalker," she laughed. "No matter how hard you try."
Anakin sensed that Obi-Wan continued to hold the stalemate with the younger Sith. His old friend was too far away and too busy to hear the Sith Master's words, so Anakin made sure to commit every single one of them to memory. "You must be very proud," he said sarcastically, "to have been bold enough to eliminate the Rule of Two. Such a long tradition thrown away so lightly."
"Oh, not lightly at all," she laughed again. "To destroy the Chosen One, our numbers must be greater than merely two. It has been foreordained for many years. I am simply the one to carry it out, now that the time of the Chosen One has arrived after all these centuries."
"You claim Sidious was your benefactor," Anakin said calmly after a moment's pause. "So tell me, then, how were you able to achieve mastery of the dark side after I killed him?"
"Isn't it obvious, Skywalker? After I faked my death I returned to Coruscant, where I trained with Sidious while you and your pathetic wife hid like cowards. And then one day you finally reappeared and demanded to meet him. With one of our holocrons he passed on the legacy of the Sith to me, and we left the other for the Jedi to find."
"I don't believe you," Anakin exclaimed. "You're saying that Sidious let me kill him!"
"Of course he did, Skywalker," she sneered. She glanced away quickly at the continuing duel between Obi-Wan and her apprentice. "He foresaw his own death at your hands that day. No matter what you think to be true, Jedi, we will always be many steps ahead of you, as we were then. Our ultimate victory is inevitable."
"That remains to be seen," Anakin snarled. With two quick strides he surged forward and attacked.
---
Luke took the lead as the four apprentices ran through the dimly lit hallways of the Hutts' compound. His turquoise blade cast a faint light on the floor and walls, but mainly he relied on his Force perceptions to retrace their path to the prison building's exit.
With his concentration on their escape route, Mara once again was monitoring their opponents. Without speaking aloud or even telepathically to him, he could feel through the surging link between their minds her impressions and conclusions about their progress.
He also sent part of his awareness around their friends. Ralli was struggling to keep up. She had severe internal injuries and was only still alive through her own efforts with the Force over the past few days. But now that exertion had begun to take its toll, and the energy she was expending in their escape she couldn't use to keep herself alive. They weren't just running for their freedom; they were running against the clock. Gars was faring better, but he too was exhausted from fending off the pain for so long.
They needed to get away – and quickly.
He felt a subconscious warning from Mara, a sensation of readiness for a confrontation to come. As they burst around a corner and headed down the final hallway before the exit, he saw a pair of gangsters blocking their path. The two short, rotund Gamorreans charged forward with their vibroaxes swinging.
Luke powered his feet with the Force to get ahead of the others. With a quick parrying arc he severed both of the axe blades in two, then smacked one of the Gamorreans on the top of the head with the butt of his saber while he kicked the other one hard in the chest. The two green, pig-nosed aliens fell limply to the floor.
An instant later Ralli and Gars came up behind him and the four of them ran toward the exit.
Luke's eyes reacted in indignation as they dashed into the glaringly bright noontime sunlight of the courtyard. Fortunately his Force awareness told him all he needed to know – there was no one there.
"Come on," he waved to the others, "hurry."
Just as they reached the open archway to the street beyond, a crowd of gangsters of various species swarmed from several doors in the courtyard and opened fire on them with blaster rifles. Luke didn't stop running and led Ralli and Gars out. He sensed Mara hanging a few steps back, her violet laser sword streaking expertly through the air to deflect away all the incoming blaster fire.
"And now?" asked Gars through labored breaths.
"This way," Luke replied quickly, motioning toward the right.
Ralli winced noticeably as they continued to run. "Where are we going?"
"I don't know," Luke admitted. "We're just running until we've lost them."
"And we've got a problem," Mara said from behind Ralli. "It's not just these guys chasing us. They've got others moving to cut us off."
Ralli grimaced as she tried to perceive it in the Force. Gars shook his head, too tired even to make an attempt. But Luke extended his feelings into the roiling currents of the energy fields in the bustling city and found the same ripples Mara had. Coordinated movements. Planning. Murderous intentions. Warnings. A noose tightening around them as they ran.
"Let's mix it up a bit, then," Luke said calmly. "Let's be unpredictable."
Mara nodded. "Go. We'll follow."
Luke turned down a side street, then took them through an alley, then reversed course down another street. The path was erratic and random; it would make no sense at all to anyone who couldn't see it ahead of time as he could.
But the Hutts had many agents in the city, and they knew who they were looking for.
"Go left," he heard Mara say from behind him. "We can lose the big group that way."
In the Force he felt her idea rush into his mind like the flow of a river. She was right. "Yes," he said. "This way!"
As predicted they broke away from the path of a large number of the pursuing gangsters with the maneuver, but there still were two groups of enemies to evade, one ahead and one to the side.
Luke could sense in the Force that Ralli and Gars were running as fast as they could. He wasn't sure it would be fast enough, but he had to hope.
The situation crystallized in his mind as they came closer and closer to the nexus point where they either would pass by a nearby alley in time, or they would arrive too late and be fired upon by the gangsters charging along it. He sensed that the others perceived the same thing.
He looked back over his shoulder. "We should find a position to defend," he said without breaking stride. "We might not make it, and we're better off holding ground."
"No," Ralli shook her head. "We'll make it. Keep running. I'll go faster."
"I will too," Gars nodded. "Go."
"Luke's right," Mara insisted. "We only have two blades. We need to find someplace we can defend you better. We can't be out in the open."
"No," Ralli said firmly. "If we run we can make it. Just go. Blast it, just go!"
Luke frowned and kept running. He felt Mara's apprehension at the idea too, but like him she couldn't think of a way to compel their injured friends to do otherwise.
He perceived the paths of their group and the gangsters getting closer and closer. The alley was only a few dozen meters away now. As the four Jedi ran down the street, their enemies to the side were almost there.
It was going to be close.
Very, very close.
Luke saw it in the Force before it happened. "No!" he shouted. "We have to stop!"
But Ralli and Gars kept running, and he had no choice but to stay with them.
"No!" he yelled again. "Stop! No!"
His friends didn't listen.
Wordlessly he and Mara burst between their friends and the gangsters swarming from the mouth of the alley with blaster rifles blazing. The blue and purple blades spun circles through the air at the incoming bolts, but it was too little and too late.
Ralli and Gars screamed in agony as lasers tore into their bodies and spun them around like leaves in a whirlwind.
---
Luke's eyes didn't see his two friends flailing in air or collapsing to the ground or writhing in pain. He perceived it all through the Force, and even worse he felt their life energy flooding away at an alarming rate. If there was any chance to save them now, there was only one way to do it.
Through the link between their minds he and Mara knew what to do without having to speak it. Luke surged away from the mouth of the alley toward the street ahead of them, where the second group of gangsters was rapidly approaching. Mara charged directly into the hooligans who had emerged from the alley.
A dozen meters away from his gravely wounded friends he confronted the thugs. His turquoise blade whirled in front of him, deflecting blaster fire back at his attackers.
Luke dropped his mind fully into the Force and released all conscious thought. The Force controlled his movements and directed his strategy.
One against eight, and it was over in a heartbeat.
The Rodian took a deflected blaster bolt to the leg, then found himself holding a blaster rifle without a barrel.
The Twi'lek was rendered unconscious by a powerful kick to the head.
A repelled bolt hit the Gamorrean squarely on his metal helmet, knocking him silly.
The Devaronian passed out from the pain of having his weapon hand sliced off.
The Nikto turned and limped away as fast as he could on a knee shattered by deflected blaster fire.
The three-eyed Gran fell to the ground clutching at his severed arm.
The Trandoshan had the misfortune of firing his blaster at the same instant the lightsaber sliced through it, sending the bolt careening backward into his abdomen.
Finally Luke lopped off the barrel of the human gangster's blaster rifle and kicked him in the chest. The man sprawled backward, then rose to his knees and threw up his hands in surrender.
Luke strode forward, his shimmering laser sword grasped firmly in both hands.
The Force told him he was too late. Ralli and Gars already were dead.
He had failed.
He had disobeyed his Master and now his friends were dead because of it.
He hadn't been strong enough to protect them.
He had failed.
And this man in front of him – this ruffian, this criminal, this tool of the Hutts – was responsible.
In three more strides he would reach the man.
Luke raised his hands up over his right shoulder and readied his blade.
"Luke, don't," said Mara's voice quietly from behind him.
He ignored her and took another step forward.
He stopped when he heard and saw and sensed in the Force the violet blade at his throat, her arm extended outward from her position behind his left shoulder where he couldn't see her.
"Stop, Luke," she said. "Stop. Don't make me stop you."
And he knew she would do it, too. She would stop him if he continued.
Luke stared coldly at the trembling man in front of him. Then with a deep breath he deactivated his weapon. The laser sword at his throat retracted too, and he turned to face her. "Let's go," he sighed.
They didn't need to say anything. Quickly they walked back down the street to the spot where the bloodied corpses of Ralli and Gars lay sprawled in the sand in the searing heat of the twin suns.
Luke reached down and picked up Gars. Although his dead friend was much taller than he, with the Force supplementing his strength he heaved the lifeless body over his shoulder. Mara solemnly collected Ralli's limp form into her arms.
Before they moved, he looked into her sad green eyes. "Thank you," he said. "Thank you for stopping me."
She nodded. "You would have done the same."
"If you hadn't been there, I… I… I don't know what I would have done," he admitted forlornly.
"It doesn't matter," she said simply. "I was here. And you didn't. We have more important things to deal with right now."
His awareness in the Force told him that groups of gangsters were converging on their position again. But this time there was a way out. They could get away. "You're right," he agreed. "All that's for later."
Without another word they broke into a run, carrying the bodies of their slain friends with them.
---
Yoda lifted his face and fixed his bulging green eyes on Danaé. "Strong with the dark side of the Force, this place is. Confront it you must."
She looked over her shoulder at the shadowy entrance in the roots of the tree. "You want me to go inside?"
"Hmm."
"Yes, Master Yoda." She took a deep breath and turned around to face the grim portal.
Yoda sighed. "Your weapon. You will not need it."
"What's in there?"
"Only what you take with you."
Without turning around, Danaé unclipped her lightsaber handle from the hem of her training britches. She held it in her hand for a long moment before she spun to face the ancient Master. "Here," she said calmly, extending her arm to him.
Yoda reached up with both hands for the weapon. It was nearly as long as his gimer stick and many times greater in diameter, but he effortlessly pulled it into his lap. "Go."
Danaé nodded firmly and walked away.
Inside the enormous dead tree was a passageway formed of roots and dirt. It was not just the presence of the dark side that gave this place a chill – the air itself actually was much colder than the misty swamp outside. Carefully she made her way along the narrow path, bracing herself on the walls and ducking to avoid hanging roots from the ceiling as she went. She had the impression she was descending beneath the surface of the ground, but she couldn't be sure.
Only a small bit of ambient light trickled into the dark chamber through gaps in the roots and soil. Extending her awareness in the Force, Danaé was able to move slowly. Yet the strength of the dark side in this place was clouding her ability to draw upon the living Force, and the disruption in her perceptions was incredibly disconcerting.
After a few more paces she heard a distinctive sound behind her. She spun on her heel to see a tall, black-clad figure with a shimmering green lightsaber.
"Hello, Danaé," the bearded man said.
"Master Trill?"
"You didn't expect to see me?"
Her heart was pounding. Her breath hitched in her throat. Her legs were wobbling. "I thought you were dead."
"Perhaps I am."
She surged her feelings toward him in the Force and found nothing. It couldn't possibly be him. Not really. But the image was uncanny. It was so utterly believable. "How did you get here?"
"You summoned me," her former Master snarled. "Your failure."
"My failure?"
"You are a failure, Danaé. In every way."
Her eyes welled up. No. No. She had felt this way about herself for over a year, but he couldn't be saying this to her. Not Master Trill. Not Oga of all people. "But I…"
"You didn't save me, Danaé."
"I tried," she insisted as tears began to flow down her cheeks. "I tried."
"No!" he barked, raising his weapon slightly from where it hummed at his waist. "No! You have learned that lesson from the beginning!"
"Do or do not," Danaé sobbed. "There is no try."
"You did not save me. You could have, if only you had searched for me sooner. Instead you waited. And your failure cost me my life."
"I did all I could…"
"No!" Master Trill snapped. "You could have done more!"
"Of course I could have," she whimpered. She had believed it from the very moment she had realized he wasn't coming back. The tears streamed down her face uncontrollably. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry doesn't help me, Danaé," he glared. "It doesn't help your sister either."
"What are you…"
"When her husband died, were you there for her? She needed you."
"I was… I was searching for you."
"After it was already too late! You knew I was gone, and yet you stayed. You didn't even attend the funeral."
"But she said…"
"Of course she said she understood," he scoffed. "Do you really think she would tell you the truth about how much you hurt her? Is it like her to say such a thing?"
"No," Danaé conceded. Her heart was broken. Her stomach was lurching beyond control. With a defeated sigh she sank to her knees in front of him. "No, she wouldn't."
"And the others?" He towered over her, his emerald blade crackling the damp air.
"Luke always wanted to train with me," she sniffled. "But I've always been too weak for him. I'm not good enough with the saber, or as a pilot. He's stopped asking." She took a deep breath, but her body still was shuddering. "And I never spend enough time with Bryon. We always played together when we were younger, but now I talk to Sarré more than I talk to him. He must hate me."
"I'm sure he does," her former Master growled. "They all do."
"Why shouldn't they?" she gasped, trying to catch her breath again. "I'm a failure as an apprentice. My father is so disappointed in me. He never says anything, but I know it's how he feels. He wishes I hadn't been born Force-sensitive at all."
"So does your mother," he chastised her. "At least then you might have been around more for her."
"I'm sorry," Danaé wept. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Apologies are worthless! Worthless!" He stared coldly into her eyes. "Just… like… you."
"I know," she whispered.
"You don't deserve to live!" he shouted, raising the whirring lightsaber over his head in both hands.
All of her worst fears had been realized. All the feelings she had suppressed for the last year had been exposed. Everything she had tried to deny had been spoken.
Every last word of it was true.
"I don't deserve to live," she repeated quietly. "I'm worthless."
"Only now, at the end, do you understand," the figure of Master Trill said darkly.
"I'm a failure to everyone in my life," Danaé rasped, looking up and waiting for the mortal blow to fall. She couldn't handle the pain any longer.
In slow motion the green blade began to descend toward her defenseless throat.
She almost felt relieved, watching it come toward her. "I'm sorry, Master Yoda," she said under her breath. "I never meant it to end like this."
Her mind responded with a memory.
"Proud of you I am."
In its sluggish arc the green blade now was only inches from decapitating her.
"No!" she screamed. "No!"
She slammed both palms out in front of her and used the Force to blast the tall man away from her. He sailed through the air and smashed into the wall of the passage – and vanished.
Danaé fell forward, barely protecting her face with her hands as her torso collapsed to the moist dirt. She lay there, crying into her fingers and shaking with tremors of anguish. "No," she gasped. "None of that is true." She tried to breathe again. "None of it."
---
Outside the cave Yoda sat with his eyes closed, holding the girl's lightsaber handle in his lap. Slowly he ran the three fingers of one hand along its length.
"Hmm," he mumbled to himself, shifting his weight ever so slightly on the tree stump.
Then he smiled and opened his eyes. "Good. Good." He patted the handle approvingly. "Ready this one is."
---
Bryon gazed out the broad window of his mother's Senate office at the glittering lights of the distant nighttime skyline of Coruscant. He took a series of deep breaths and concentrated on the whizzing spots of red light from receding traffic in an airspeeder corridor. After a moment he had controlled his frustration.
The meeting was not going well.
"I understand your position, Mill," his mother was saying behind him. "But it's too dangerous. It's that simple."
"And I appreciate your concern, Padmé, I truly do," Supreme Chancellor Bail Millius responded patiently. "But you need to understand the situation I am in. My homeworld has been brutalized. The casualties are staggering. And tomorrow we will be asking for total mobilization of the Republic."
"Yes, I know," Padmé sighed. "It hasn't occurred since the Separatist insurrection. You must look strong before you can call for such an action."
"Exactly!" exclaimed Millius passionately. "I must show the enemy that we are not afraid. That we will not lose our resolve. That any pain he inflicts on us will only make us more determined to defeat him. I must return to Alderaan."
Bryon spun on his heel and entered the conversation again. "With all due respect, Your Excellency, you must consider your own safety. The Republic needs strong, stable leadership during this crisis, especially now that full-scale war is inevitable. We simply cannot afford to lose another Chancellor."
"Don't worry about showing me disrespect, Major," Millius insisted. "I do not ask for the opinions of those whose judgment I do not trust." He blew out a deep sigh. "Nonetheless, my priorities are different from yours. It is your sole responsibility to ensure my security. But I have obligations that I cannot forgo merely because they might endanger my life. It is imperative that I travel to Alderaan to reassure all the citizens of the galaxy of the strength of the Republic and our will to triumph."
"I am aware, Your Excellency, that you cannot make that point as effectively in another venue," Bryon persisted. "Yet you also must consider the facts. The Vyhrragians have inserted an assault fleet into the Core. A fleet with enough warships and armament to inflict catastrophic destruction on a planet in less than two hours. We still do not know the composition of that fleet. Even more importantly, we do not know its present location. But there is little reason to think the enemy is not still somewhere in the Core, and probably somewhere near Alderaan. Until more information can be obtained, it is absurd for you even to consider traveling there."
"Listen to him, Mill," Padmé pleaded. "This is why you brought him on in the first place. You're a politician. You don't know security. You don't understand the gravity of the dangers. You have to listen to the experts."
"Padmé, please understand something," Millius said earnestly. "You have done well tonight. You have made every argument the best it could possibly be made. But you know as well as I that not every decision can be made logically. There are times we must do what we know is right, what we know is necessary, even if it is not supported by reason or wisdom." He looked closely into her eyes, then into Bryon's. "My decision is final. I depart at dawn for Alderaan."
"Understood, Your Excellency," Bryon bowed stiffly. "My units will be ready."
"As they always are, Major Skywalker," Millius nodded definitively. "The Navy warships for the convoy are listed in the briefing memo. If you believe they are inadequate, you have the authority of my office to demand whatever additional support you deem necessary."
"Yes, Your Excellency." Bryon said nothing more, fighting back his urge to scream at the Chancellor for his idiocy.
Millius strode quickly to Padmé and placed a hand on her shoulder. "The trip will take only a day. I am confident you and Acting Senator Bellion and the others will handle the legislation perfectly in my absence."
"Thank you, Mill," Padmé said quietly. "May the Force be with you."
"And also with you," the Supreme Chancellor smiled warmly. Then he bowed politely, walked across her office, and departed out the door.
Bryon stepped over to his mother's side. "You did the best you could."
"I'm sorry it wasn't enough," she whispered. She reached out and took his hand in both of hers. "I know you couldn't disapprove of this more strongly."
Bryon shrugged. "That's true. But I don't have the final decision and neither do you."
"I just wish he had listened."
"So do I, Mom."
Padmé gazed up into his eyes. "Be careful. Be safe."
"Yeah," he sighed.
"What is it, Bryon?"
"I have a very bad feeling about this."
---
Leia ran her fingers through her damp hair, which hung loosely over her simple silken white shirt and trailed down her back to just above the waistband of her matching shorts. She emerged from her tent and saw Sarré sitting on one of the crates by the burning campfire in the middle of their group of three tents. Taking a seat on an adjacent crate, Leia realized her friend was sobbing.
Sarré kept staring into the fire. "He'll be okay, won't he?"
"Yes, he will," Leia nodded. "The scanner showed no broken bones or internal injuries. The bactade took away most of the pain, and he'll only need a few patches to protect the cuts."
"That's good," Sarré rasped through her hitching breaths.
"Chewie took him over to the showers to get cleaned up. They'll be back shortly."
"Okay." Tears still streamed down Sarré's face, and her body was shaking.
"Tell me what's going on, Sarré," said Leia tenderly.
"It's nothing," her friend sighed.
"It's not nothing! You're a mess," Leia insisted. "This morning you were quiet. And at the cafeteria… I've… I've never seen you like that before. And now… you're crying." She reached out and put a hand on Sarré's shoulder. "What's going on?"
"I just miss Bryon," Sarré sighed, wiping her eyes and damp cheeks with the back of her hand. "That's all. I mean, I think about him all the time. I need him so much and… it's been over a month since I've seen him and… I guess I took it out on those men. Especially their leader."
"You shouldn't have stomped on him like that," Leia said quietly. "You could have killed him."
"I know," Sarré sobbed again, holding her face in both hands. "I don't know why I did it. I was… I was out of control. I can't explain it. I was just so angry."
Leia already had concluded that Sarré was equally unable to control her feelings now, except it was sadness instead of rage. But she didn't think bringing it up would accomplish anything, so she rested her other hand on Sarré's knee and pulled her close. "It'll be okay," she soothed as best she could. "You'll get to see Bryon soon. Somehow. I know you will. I promise. Everything will be better then."
"I hope you're right," Sarré sighed, finally seeming to regain a bit of her composure. "I'm sorry I'm like this, Leia. I really am. I think I just need some sleep; I haven't been sleeping well lately and I think maybe I'm just overtired. I'll be better in the morning, okay?"
"Okay," Leia whispered, not really convinced but not wanting to upset her handmaiden any more than she already was. Before she could say anything further she heard Chewbacca's wroofing greeting from the dirt pathway.
"Go to him," Sarré said simply. "I insist. I'll stay here; I want to think about a few things before I call it a night."
"Are you sure?" When her friend nodded, Leia sprang to her feet and rushed to Han's side. "How are you feeling?" she asked him anxiously.
"I've been better, Princess," Han sighed, flashing her a weak but mischievous grin. Chewie wrawled a question. "Yeah, thanks. I can take it from here. See you in the morning."
Leia leaned up to give Chewie an appreciative embrace, even though her hands couldn't reach each other across his broad back. "Thank you. For everything," she said into his ear. Chewie only smiled and shrugged. Then he turned away and ambled off into the dark night toward the grassy meadow where the Falcon was docked.
Han had stumbled a few paces toward his tent, but he had stopped in place and was swaying a bit. Leia wrapped an arm around his waist and held him firmly. "Take it slowly," she advised calmly.
"Oh, I have, sweetheart," Han chuckled.
Leia let the innuendo pass without a response. "Come on, flyboy. You need to be off your feet."
"As you wish, Your Highness." He leaned on her for support the final few steps to the tent, then ducked inside when she held the durafabric flap open for him. She didn't close the flap behind her.
She sat him down on the edge of the cot and stepped back. "Take off your shirt."
"What?"
"Take off your shirt," she ordered again. "We need to apply the bacta patches."
He complied with a wink, pulling the blue shirt over his head and dropping it on the floor at the foot of the cot. He leaned back and propped himself up on his outstretched arms. He had left his sandals just inside the tent, so he now wore only a pair of blue shorts.
She could tell he was admiring her body in the dim, flickering light from the single glowlamp in the tent. Which wasn't really out of line, considering that she hadn't taken her eyes off his bare chest yet. Then she realized that her hair had dampened the front of her white shirt – and she quickly pulled her tresses around to cover herself. "Lie down."
"Being a little direct tonight, aren't you?"
"Don't get excited."
"Princess, being bossed around by you isn't quite enough to get me excited," he chuckled.
"Sorry, Captain," she laughed. "But I don't have the patience for anything else." She retrieved the medpac from where Sarré had left it on the floor on the other side of the tent and walked back over to him.
He was lying on his back, grinning up at her.
Leia sat down on the edge of the cot, opened the medpac on the floor, and pulled out the antiseptic swabs and bacta patches. "Stay still," she said softly. "Please."
He did. She ran her fingers over each of the bruises that remained on his chest to see how badly he winced in pain, and was glad to see he hardly reacted at all. The bactade he had consumed earlier must have healed the minor injuries. He had a few cuts on his left side and two on his left cheek. She tenderly wiped the wounds with the swabs. She smiled when he gritted his teeth to keep from flinching at the sting of the ointment. Then she pressed the adhesive patches over the cuts and rubbed her fingers over them gently to be sure they would hold.
When she raised her eyes to his face, she saw that his eyes were distracted by the way her shirt was hanging when she was leaning down to tend to him. She laughed and sat up straight. "Did you enjoy the view, Captain?"
"Huh? Uh… What?" he stammered. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Han, you are a terrible liar," she laughed again. She ran her fingertips slowly around his bare chest. "I like this view very much," she whispered seductively. "And I like the feel of it too." He gasped as she ran a single finger along his abdomen just above the waistband of his shorts. "Now tell me the truth. Did you enjoy the view?"
"Yes," he admitted with a slight flush rising on his face. "Yes, I did."
"You wouldn't lie to me about that, would you?"
"Never."
"Good," she whispered again. She ran her fingers up his chest and squeezed his shoulders before she leaned down and kissed him.
He kissed her back, devouring her lips with a desperate intensity. She leaned herself against him and ran her hands up through his short brown hair. His hands found her sides, slipping immediately under her shirt to caress her bare back. She broke the kiss to nibble his earlobe, and he responded by lightly kissing the side of her neck over and over.
She lifted her face to kiss him on the lips again. Then she sat up, guiding his hands off her back and into her lap, where she held them in hers. "Don't go anywhere," she said softly, staring intensely into his eyes. "I'll be right back."
His response consisted of an incoherent moan that conveyed both disappointment and expectation.
Leia rose to her feet and paced over to the tent's durafabric flap. She pulled it out of the way and looked outside. Sarré still was sitting by the fire, and she had heard the soft brush of sound from Leia's movement. She turned over her shoulder and met Leia's eyes.
Leia smiled at her handmaiden and nodded. When Sarré nodded back, Leia pushed the flap against the wall of the tent and tapped the magnetic seals to close it off. She stared at the plain gray durafabric for a long moment and took a few deep breaths.
Then she strode back to the cot and stopped just out of his arms' reach. She looked down at Han. His hands were clasped over his stomach and he was gazing up at her in surprise. He didn't say anything.
Leia's fingers curled around the hem of her shirt and pulled it upward.